


One Step Forward, Two Steps Back

by Wolfsbride



Series: Heart and Hearth [3]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Age Difference, F/M, Older Woman/Younger Man
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-10
Updated: 2013-09-10
Packaged: 2017-12-25 20:03:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/957071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfsbride/pseuds/Wolfsbride
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bond has a terrible no good very bad day. And then it gets better. And then it gets worse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Step Forward, Two Steps Back

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Persiflage](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Persiflage/gifts).



It’s late morning when Bond finally makes it into the office, freshly dressed and sheared. He stops at Q division, before heading upstairs, in order to drop off his equipment. Q is there, working diligently at his computer. He wanders over.

“Morning, Q.”

Bond’s brows rise when Q’s head jerks up and his face suffuses with colour.

“Ah! Bond! Um.. M… Morning.” Q stutters, very unlike his usual faintly condescending manner.

“Are you alright?” He finds the young man a bit of a stuffed shirt but, still, he wouldn’t wish ill on him.

“Fine! I’m fine! What do you want?”

Frowning, Bond reaches into his jacket and takes out the packet containing the surveillance gear he’d been loaned. “I just wanted to return these.”

To his surprise, Q jerks his gaze away from his and gestures shakily to a mildly clear spot on the corner of his desk.

“Just…” Q clears his throat. “Put them there.”

“Q, are you sure there’s nothing the matter?” Q isn’t a field agent but normally he’s much more unflappable than this. Right now, however, he looks like a broiled lobster.

“Oh, God. Please go away.” Q covers his face with his hands.

Blinking, Bond decides to take his leave. Clearly, whatever is wrong, Q doesn’t feel like sharing.

~*~*~*~*~*~

He meets Tanner and Moneypenny in the lift on his way up. Tanner is holding a stack of files that he promptly drops as Bond enters. The doors close as they both stoop to retrieve the folders; Bond notices that Tanner is almost as red as Q was and, like him, he refuses to meet his gaze.

As they straighten, Bond hands Tanner his half of the files. “Morning Tanner, Moneypenny.”

Tanner snatches the files away and mumbles something that could possibly be good morning.

“Oh, don’t mind him, James.”

Bond’s gaze flicks to Moneypenny as she draws his name out.

“He’s just having a flashback.”

His eyes widen as Moneypenny licks her lips. He’s not sure what to make of this. Usually, _he’s_ the one doing the flirting.

He’s about to turn to face the front when Moneypenny grins.

“Did you have a good night?”

Bond swears that she’s leering. Beside her, Tanner looks like he’s having a fit.

“Will you stop!” He hisses.

When Moneypenny actually _pouts_ and mutters something about Tanner being no fun at all, Bond resolves to ignore them. He faces front and pretends he doesn’t hear the two of them whispering furiously behind him. He can only make out a few words and none of it makes any sense.

After a few minutes, the doors open on their floor and Tanner and Moneypenny brush by him before he can get off. Specially trained agent though he might be, he still jumps when Moneypenny pinches his arse on her way out. At least, he assumes it’s Moneypenny. Tanner is still clutching his batch of file folders like a shield.

“Good morning, James.” Moneypenny singsongs as she saunters after Tanner who is doing his best to scurry away without actually breaking into run.

The doors almost close again while he stands wondering what the hell is going on.

~*~*~*~*~*~

The debriefing is odd.

Usually, he talks; M listens and asks the occasional pertinent question; Tanner takes notes and Moneypenny gives it a twist from the perspective of someone not so closely involved. Today, however, Tanner seems incapable of keeping his focus; Moneypenny keeps giving him looks from the corner of her eye and M, instead of calling them to task, is _smiling_.

If the world comes to an end right at this moment, Bond will not be surprised.

He regains his focus. “It looks as though Petr was right to be suspicious. I was able to expand on the information he gathered. It’s worrying. Arm dealers sell direct. In this situation, I don’t think the shipments are going to one place.” 

M taps her pen on her desk. “Locations?”

Bond shakes his head. “I wasn’t able to get a direct trace. I didn’t think the use of excess force would be appropriate as it would alert them and possibly change the existing plan. Whatever Intel we’ve accumulated thus far would have been rendered redundant.” 

“Remarkably restrained of you, Bond. It’s nice to know you can be taught.”

On his right side, Moneypenny snickers and muffles a comment behind her hand about learning new tricks. On his left, Tanner drops his file _and_ his pen and scrambles to pick them up, murmuring his apologies.

“Behave, Eve. You don’t want to do poor Bill an injury, do you?”

“No, ma’am. Sorry.”

Bond has had just about enough. He feels like he’s surrounded by imposters. Tanner and Moneypenny are behaving like adolescents. M never stands for this sort of behaviour and yet, instead of her typical scathing manner, she’s merely issued a mild rebuke. He wants to jump to his feet and demand to know what the joke is. But he doesn’t.

“Tanner, will you correlate all the information Bond has brought back and see if anything stands out?” 

M glances at Bond. “I assume, from your lack of comment, you were also unable to uncover the buyer?”

Bond nods, deflating somewhat. They had more questions now, than when he’d left. 

“Then that’s a good place to start.”

“Yes, ma’am.” 

Tanner gets to his feet and turns away. The customary ‘Sir’ remains unsaid and Bond is annoyed to find himself feeling bereft. The feeling is fleeting, chased away as it is by Moneypenny’s fingers on his arm. Her hand lingers and when he meets her gaze, she’s smirks at him. 

Drawing back, Moneypenny rises to her feet and then rests a hand on Bond’s shoulder as she goes to leave. She gives his shoulder a firm squeeze, hard enough that he can feel the tips of her fingers digging in. Then she pats him and follows Tanner out.

As soon as the door closes, Bond eyes M. “Your staff seem to have lost their minds.”

“That’s what most people say about you, 007. Do stop cluttering up my office.”

Bond waits to see if she’ll explain everyone’s weird behaviour. When nothing is forthcoming, he harrumphs and goes.

~*~*~*~*~*~

By the time Bond decides to go down to the work canteen for a bite, it’s mid-afternoon. He’s trying to choose between the club sandwich and the French onion soup when he feels a hand on his arse. He manages not to jump this time. He wonders if this is Moneypenny’s revenge for all the times he’s openly ogled her. He steps to the side so that her hand falls away from his bum.

He orders the soup, determined to ignore her. He pays for his meal and turns, looking for a place to sit. Moneypenny grabs his elbow. 

“Come _join_ us, James.”

Her tone does not bode well.

Us turns out to be Tanner and Q as well as Moneypenny. Bond sighs. Moneypenny looks determined and he doesn’t want to make a scene, so he sits. Moneypenny does the same.

Q goes white and then bright red as he did in his office. Tanner studies his salad as though it contains the lost secrets of the ages. Moneypenny picks up her fork. On her plate is the largest slice of cake he’s ever seen, topped off by a tower of whipped cream. 

She digs in, cutting off a sizeable portion. Her moan is decadent. Tanner coughs, seemingly choking on a bit of tomato, while Q – Bond isn’t sure how – gets even more red. After swallowing, Moneypenny hums in pleasure, lays aside her fork and smiles broadly at Bond.

He’s immediately on guard. 

“So James, do tell us about Moscow! Did you have to get all _physical_ to keep warm?” Her tone is wickedly gleeful.

Q groans and looks like he’s about to slide under the table to hide. Tanner closes his eyes tightly, as if by doing so he can shut out the conversation. Bond stares, baffled. It’s hard to miss the innuendo, but he still doesn’t have a clue what’s got everyone acting oddly.

“You know I don’t kiss and tell, Eve,” Bond finally says. 

“Oh, but don’t you need two people for kissing?” 

Blinking, Bond is about to ask Moneypenny just what she’s implying when Tanner splutters. 

“For the love of God, Eve, enough already! I, for one, would like to be able to continue to work here without the threat of a nervous breakdown.”

Moneypenny frowns. “Neither of you want to know what he got up to in Moscow?” 

She gets a very adamant, “No!” from both Tanner and Q. 

Making a noise of displeasure, Moneypenny shakes her head. “Spoilsports.” She beams at Bond. “Don’t worry, James. I’ll get the details out of you later.” She takes another bite of her cake, eyes bright with mirth as she watches Bond while she chews. 

Suddenly, Bond feels the pressing need to leave. He murmurs an excuse. He’s not fleeing, he tells himself. He’s making a strategic retreat.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Bond spends the rest of the day _not_ hiding from Moneypenny. He’s just – very busy. So is M, if the way she waves him off every time he wanders in to see her is any indication. By the time the end of the work day rolls around he’s frustrated – and hungry. His stomach reminds him he hasn’t had anything to eat since breakfast with M, which feels like a lifetime ago. 

He puts on his coat and prepares to go. He checks in with M and finds her still working her way through a pile of reports. She gives him a dry smile and a shrug. He nods in understanding and leaves.

Moneypenny ambushes him on his way to his car. She has a very reluctant a Tanner and Q in tow. “Dinner, Bond? Since you abandoned lunch.” Her smile is sharp.

He’s tired of this game. “Yes. But only if you’ll tell me why you’ve all gone crazy.”

Moneypenny links his arm with hers. “Come on. I’ll show you mine, if you show me yours.”

Behind her, Tanner and Q whimper.

~*~*~*~*~*~

A short walk later, the four of them are ensconced at one of the round tables in the Riverside. It’s a familiar haunt for them due to its proximity to their workplace. The waiter has already taken their drink orders, leaving behind the dinner menus. Moneypenny, Tanner and Q are huddled around one side of the table leaving Bond staring at them from the other side. Tanner and Q are firmly hidden behind their menus, while Moneypenny peruses hers nonchalantly. Bond has a very bad feeling about this.

The waiter returns with their drinks. 

Bond rubs a clear spot in the condensation on the side of his Heineken. Moneypenny takes a sip of her White Rioja and smiles at the waiter. Q fiddles with his Bloody Mary, turning the glass around and around. Tanner takes a gulp of his Mojito and seeing Bond’s expression, mutters. “I need to be drunk for this conversation.”

“Food first, Bill.” Moneypenny admonishes.

Bond isn’t sure he’s going to be able to eat. He orders the homemade soup just to keep things light. Tanner orders a ribeye steak and Q orders the butter chicken. Moneypenny asks for fish and chips with mushy peas. 

She waits until the waiter is out of ear shot before pinning Bond with a fierce look. “What are your intentions toward M?”

“Eve! That’s not subtle at all!” 

Moneypenny rolls her eyes. “I never _said_ I was going to be subtle, Bill. Well?”

Bond takes a slow sip of his Heineken. “I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”

Huffing, Moneypenny crosses her arms. “Considering Bill and I have seen more of M than we ever thought we would and Q here has seen more of both of you than he ever _wanted_ to, I would say it’s definitely _our_ business!”

Q almost knocks over his drink at the mention of his name. “Oh my God! You promised you wouldn’t say anything! Look, she gave me an order! I couldn’t _not_ do it! Please don’t kill me!”

Bond puts it together. He’s never been one to get embarrassed easily, but right now he can feel his face heat right up to the tips of his ears. “You… Her video…” He looks from one to the other to the other. His only consolation is that Tanner and Q look as mortified as he feels. Moneypenny just looks grim.

“Yes.” She snaps. “Look, the fact that she even _did_ something like that means she must care about you a great deal and we all know your reputation, Bond. If you’re just playing some sort of game with her, then…”

“Are you saying you don’t think M can take care of herself?”

“Oh, don’t be obtuse, Bond. We all know how capable M is. It doesn’t change the fact that there’s some truth to the saying love is blind. You’re her weakness.”

Bond freezes. His discomfiture and irritation drain away. In a moment of clarity he knows Moneypenny is right. He squares his shoulders. “Thank you for wanting to protect her – even if it’s from me. I don’t imagine you’ll believe me but I assure you I’m not playing games. I don’t have any intentions towards her other than trying to make her happy. Does that meet your approval?”

Moneypenny gives him a we’ll see look. She continues to grill him. By the time the food arrives, all three men are longing for escape.

~*~*~*~*~*~

M is pouring herself a nightcap when her intercom buzzes. She chides herself for acting like a teenager as soon as her heart starts beating faster. Putting down the decanter, she crosses the room to the front door. As she’d thought – hoped – it’s Bond standing in her doorway. 

“Using the bell, James? How novel.” 

She stands aside so that he can enter and he does. But instead of going on through to her living room, he steps close, bends down and gathers her into a tight hug. He kisses her cheek and then tucks his face into the crook of her neck. 

“I’ve missed you.”

It’s so heartfelt for a moment M can’t respond, and then she goes up on tiptoes, arms rising to wrap around his shoulders. 

“James.” Her voice quivers.

They stand holding each other tightly for several minutes. When he finally pulls away, she takes him by the hand and leads him into the living room. She hands him her nightcap and pours another for herself. They settle next to each other on her sofa. 

M snorts. “This sofa’s seen a lot of action since you gave me that DVD.”

Bond chokes on his drink. “Christ, woman.” 

He coughs a bit and swipes at his chin. Putting his drink down, he turns towards her. “Your staff vetted me tonight.”

The drink sloshes in M’s hand. She puts it down carefully and turns toward Bond as well. “Excuse me?”

“Moneypenny gave me the third degree about you. With Tanner and Q for backup. Though I think she bullied them into coming.”

“What on earth? They are aware I’m not yet in my dotage.”

“Yes, well. I suppose when you invite people to help you make a sex tape, they _will_ start to take liberties.” Bond tries to look stern.

“Oh that.” M doesn’t even bother to blush.

“Yes.”

“I was only thinking of you, James.” 

“I should hope it was only me you were thinking of!” 

“James!” M smacks his arm and then starts to laugh. 

When M slumps against him, still chuckling, Bond slides his arm around her back and tugs her closer. She rests her head on his shoulder.

“How bad was it?”

“She’d do well with interrogations.” 

M chuckles again. “I’ll take it under advisement.”

“Give me fair warning if you decide to make the change. She’s bloody scary when she’s on the warpath.”

“Scarier than I?”

“No one’s scarier than you, M.” Bond dips his head and kisses her temple.

“Mm.” M tilts her head up and back so that he can kiss her properly. 

They kiss, soft and languid. It’s so different from the rough hurriedness of last night. They continue kissing for what seems like ages, the two of them breathing through their noses to prolong the sensations. 

Desire swells, a slow rolling wave that washes through M until she’s tingling. An idle thought makes its presence felt and she draws back to smile at Bond. He blinks down at her dazedly and she strokes her palm over his short buzz cut. “It’s been years since I sat around necking.”

Some of the fog clears from Bond’s gaze and a thoughtful expression crosses his face. “I don’t think I’ve ever had the pleasure.” 

M doesn’t suppose he has. The main act is usually the goal of seduction in their business. Foreplay is cursory, a means to an end. M leans up and their kissing resumes.

The tempo has changed. An undercurrent of want is beginning to grow. Bond presses M into the back of the sofa and starts to nuzzle her neck. M shivers as her body starts to respond more urgently. She shoves at him, making him sit up. Standing, she reaches a hand out to him.

“Let’s go to bed.”

Bond takes her hand and follows her through to her bedroom, obedient as he never is in the field. He strips her slowly, sliding her red silk pajamas from her body with careful hands. He worships her with his touch, in contrast to the wildness of their first time. 

She reaches for him, hands trembling and undresses him with the same care. She pinches and twists his nipples hard and Bond shudders. “Is that what you wanted, James?”

“God, yes.” His breathing grows heavy.

She plays with them until they are as peaked and tight as her own. Then her hands drift lower. Bond is half hard and she grips him easily, teasing a fingertip around the inside of his foreskin, coaxing the head of his cock out. 

His hips rock up but she holds him loosely, not letting him get much friction. He whines unhappily at that. Her throaty laugh makes him throb.

As Bond gets more and more aroused, M sees that her suspicions had been correct. Her thumb and fingers no longer meet around his prick. He is thick and twitching in her grasp.

She guides him back to sit on the bed. She is old and her knees are not what they used to be. She’s pretty sure he won’t mind. She leans over him and breathes on his cock, her breath warm and damp. His hips snap up and she almost loses an eye. “James!”

“Oh Fuck. Christ. Sorry,” he pants.

“If you can’t control yourself, I won’t be able to do it. You’re rather large and I’m… not. I don’t relish the thought of being choked to death.”

“Bloody Christ. Keep talking like that and we won’t have to worry about it.” 

M gazes at him spread out on her bed. It’s a sight that makes her wish she could just screw herself down on his cock. Next time, she thinks. I’ll prepare myself beforehand.

“Do try to keep your hips still.”

This elicits a laugh from Bond that borders on hysterical. “I’ll do my best, ma’am.”

M watches him a moment, and then ducks her head. The tip of his cock is now fully out of his foreskin and she gives him a quick lick to test his reaction. He gasps and his muscles tense, but he manages not to move. 

“Good boy.” She whispers. She licks him again, more exploratory now, her tongue rubbing and sliding, adding her own moisture to his fluids. Bond shivers, moaning as he clutches the sheets.

His prick is leaking heavily and she uses that and her own saliva to slide down, taking both the head and a quarter of Bond’s cock into her mouth. Bond’s shout and his hands scrabbling madly at her head come a fraction of a second too late. His hips have already jerked up and she gags, falling onto her side and coughing hard. 

“M!” Bond starts to sit up, trying to make she’s alright. “God. Sorry.”

Shaking her head, M breathes deeply. She slips off the bed, and then stands and pushes him flat. 

“We’ll try that again some other time. When I’ve had the chance to purchase some rope. If you can’t keep yourself still, I’ll have to make you.”

Bond gapes, speechless.

“For now, though, let’s put that mouth to good use.” M climbs on the bed and straddles his face, holding on to the headboard to make sure she doesn’t smother him.

He doesn’t hesitate to do as he’s told. He licks at her outer folds, teasing her as she did him. Her hips twist as she fucks herself on his tongue. He pushes up, meeting her half way and between them they work out a rhythm that makes M sob his name. Several minutes later she’s lifting up and moving down his body. 

Bond seizes her hips, halting her movement. “Lube.” 

She presses her forehead to his chest, feeling how rapidly it’s rising and falling. She wants to say to hell with the lube but she’s still a bit sore from the night before. She nods, knowing he’ll be able to tell. She doesn’t trust her voice.

She rolls onto her back and listens as Bond gets up to retrieve the lube. When he returns to her side, she glances at his prick, which is tight against his stomach, and then back up at Bond. She spreads her legs. “As quick as you can, James.”

He quirks a brow. 

M huffs. “With the prep, James! Now is not the time to be cheeky!”

He grins and settles on the bed between her legs. Coating his fingers, he sets aside the tube and gently runs his fingertips over and around the outside of her pussy before thrusting his fingers inside. He turns his fingers back and forth, stretching her.

M’s hips arch, pressing into his hand. “James, _please_.”

Curling his fingers, he rubs his thumb against her clit several times before withdrawing and positioning himself above her. He gazes down at her. “Are you sure?”

M grabs his hips and drags him down. Bond enters her in one hard thrust. They both freeze, panting harshly. M rocks her hips and clenches around him. 

Bond swears and starts to move. 

~*~*~*~*~*~

M trails her fingers up and down the arm around her waist. “James.”

He squeezes her tightly but says nothing. 

She hates this. It’s one of the reasons she fought so hard against her attraction. “James, you know you can’t spend another night.”

She feels a kiss at the back of her neck. “I know.”

“And…” She pauses to let the lump in her throat settle. “You can’t make a habit of popping over, either.” Breaking and entering once in a while was alright. Visiting your superior every evening for no good reason would get them both into trouble.

She almost suggests that they go away for the weekend. But bites back the words when she realizes that would cause just as many problems. For years she’s had a strict routine. To deviate from it now would be a sure way to raise suspicions. It’s something to think about though. Maybe she can start making small changes so that later on disappearing for a few days won’t cause a stir.

Bond squeezes her again and then retreats. 

She lies still curled on her side, eyes closed. It’s enough to hear him slowly moving around her bedroom, getting dressed. She keeps her eyes shut when he leans down and kisses her hair.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Persiflage for all the hand holding and cheer leading.


End file.
